I'm Only Dreaming
by Morbid Original
Summary: This bed really isn't big enough for two people. [IchigoxRukia][fluffoneshot]


Came up with this firsrt scene last night (randomly), wrote it down this morning, and built off of it from there. No masterpiece, but I had fun, hah. I'm just getting into this series, so this may seem pretty OOC, but I did my best to stretch the characters' personalities as little as possible.

Enjoy.  
And of course I don't own anything. Nor do I know where this is supposed to fit in in the series. Be creative.

* * *

There was a dull thump followed by a muffled cry from the closet.

"Ichigo! All your damn junk just fell on me!" a voice cried irritatedly.

Smirking, Ichigo sat up on his bed, turning towards the voice.

"That sucks. Now are you gonna do anything or just stay in there and whine about it?" he said mockingly.

The closet door opened to reveal a disheveled young-looking girl with dark sleep-tousled hair glaring at him in the moonlight. Rukia groaned.

"It's too late. I'll sleep on the floor tonight and fix it in the morning," she said, turning back to the closet and attempting to pry a blanket out from under the rubble.

"Don't be stupid," Ichigo sighed tiredly. "Just sleep here and shut up," he said, moving as close to the edge of the bed as possible to make room for her.

"Fine," Rukia said listlessly, not realizing the connotations of the situation.

Ichigo turned on his side facing the window and kept his gaze glued straight ahead as she climbed onto the bed beside him, pulling her half of the sheet over herself. The two remained silent for a moment, each staring in opposite directions, not moving an inch lest they were to accidentally brush the other.

"This bed really isn't big enough for two people," Rukia said flatly after a moment.

"Yeah, so if I wake up stiff, it'll be your fault. Just keep that in mind," Ichigo said jokingly. Rukia smiled slightly and turned onto her stomach. Ichigo felt her body relax beside his as she settled in to sleep.

"Good night," she said.

Ichigo braved a glance over his shoulder at her and saw her eyes were already closed. He carefully shifted into a more comfortable position and sighed, looking at her once again.

"'Night, Rukia."

* * *

Monday morning, Ichigo opened his eyes to find himself nose-to-nose with Rukia – _in his bed!_ And what was more, his hand was covering hers. His panic settled as he remembered the events of the night before and how he had invited Rukia to share his bed for the night. What he had been thinking, he had no idea; probably just the tiredness talking, he told himself.

Propping himself up on his elbow carefully, he looked over to his closet. The door was halfway open and indeed, Rukia's makeshift bed was covered in books and clothes, and other junk that had fallen off the shelf above. Smirking, Ichigo looked back at the girl beside him, her chest rising and falling steadily with each breath, eyes closed peacefully against the sunlight streaming in through the window.

Ichigo sighed. "If it's not soul-reaping keeping me up at night, it's always something," he muttered to himself, chuckling. His hand still holding hers, he ran his thumb back and forth over the smooth skin, unsure of what was compelling his actions.

Rukia stirred, and Ichigo quickly lay his head back on the pillow, shutting his eyes and feigning sleep. Out of curiosity at her reaction, he did not remove his hand from hers.

He felt her start to sit up and pause, evidently staring at their clasped hands.

"What's this about?" she asked.

Ichigo blinked tiredly, pretending to only just be waking up, and propped himself on his elbows again.

"Good morning to you too, bed moocher," he said, making as if he didn't notice anything.

"I know you were awake already, now what's this?" Rukia repeated, gesturing to their hands.

Ichigo sighed. "How am I supposed to know? I just woke up and we were like that."

"Well why didn't you move?" she demanded.

"Who cares, why didn't you move?"

"'Who cares'? That's not a real answer!"

"Alright, I wanted to see your reaction."

"Then why did you pretend to be asleep again? You can't _see_ anything like that!"

"Because then it would look like I did it on purpose!" Ichigo fumed, then flushing, quickly added, "Which I didn't!"

"Well neither did I!" Rukia said. They each glanced at their hands again and quickly drew them back. Rukia got out of bed, walking toward the closet. "I'll see you at school. We can resolve this later."

"Or we could just forget about it and act like it never happened," Ichigo suggested.

Rukia paused and turned back to him.

"Would you prefer that?"

He shrugged. "Sure."

Rukia sniffed indignantly and leapt onto the pile of junk in the closet. "Fine." And she shut the door.

* * *

"Hey, man, have you seen Rukia?" Mizuiro asked, scanning the courtyard for her.

Ichigo shook his head after a moment.

"Nope. Haven't seen her," he lied.

Mizuiro sighed. "Bummer. I was hoping she'd eat lunch with me."

Ichigo chuckled, staring downward thoughtfully.

"Always a ladies' man, Mizuiro," he muttered.

Mizuiro smirked. "Hey, you of all people can't blame me with this one. She's hot."

Ichigo looked up. "What do you mean 'me of all people'?"

Mizuiro stared at him expectantly. "Come on, man, I've seen the way you look at her. I have to say, you've got good taste –"

Ichigo stood up, glaring at Mizuiro challengingly. "That's not true," he said firmly, though he felt a persistent unsurity somewhere deep within him.

"Hey, easy! It's not like I blame you or anything, she's really hot!" Mizuiro said quickly, holding up his hands in innocence. Then realization dawned on his face as a thought came to him. "Hey, if you want me to back off, she's yours, man. Just say the word."

Ichigo grunted noncommittally, leaning against the chain-link fence behind him and crossing his arms. "It's not - ...It's complicated," he said vaguely, staring intensely ahead of him.

"Why, because she's a transfer student? Big deal," Mizuiro said lightly, chuckling. "You should take the opportunity while you can, before she goes back to...wherever she's from," he added sagely.

Ichigo didn't reply.

"But if you're seriously not interested, you know where to send her!" Mizuiro added, grinning, then turned to leave with a parting wave.

Ichigo stood there indecisively for a moment, then turned on his heel and made his way over to a picnic table shaded by a great ginkgo tree across the courtyard. Rukia sat on the edge of the table alone, reading from her history and language book, and didn't look up when he took a seat beside her wordlessly. Finally, he broke the silence.

"Were you dreaming or something?" Ichigo asked, staring straight ahead.

Rukia closed the book, sighing. "I thought you were the one who said you wanted to forget about it," she said dully.

"Is that why you've been avoiding me all day?" Ichigo asked, looking over at her.

Rukia lowered her eyes to the ground in front of her. "Not really," she admitted. "I was thinking about the same thing, though. Did you have a strange dream or something? Like, about Orihime maybe?" she asked.

"What?! Orihime? _No_," Ichigo said astonishedly, but strongly. "Of course not."

Rukia sighed. "I can't remember if I was dreaming or not. If I was, I don't remember what it was about."

"Me too." Ichigo sighed thoughtfully, staring into the distance as if it held the answers to their questions. "It, um...It still wasn't me," he said casually, the unsurity inside him swelling rapidly.

"Me neither," Rukia said, turning her head away.

After a moment of awkward silence, Ichigo sighed, looking back at her.

"Look, let's just say neither of us did it. It was probably just coincidence," he offered.

"Right," she conceded, nodding. "It probably had nothing to do with dreams, or...anything."

"Mmhm."

There was a pause, and a question rose to Ichigo's mind, itching to be asked.

"...So, you know, Mizuiro told me he was really interested in you," he began indifferently, avoiding her eyes.

Rukia scoffed. "Are you kidding?"

"What, you're not the least bit attracted to him?" Ichigo pried, turning to her.

She laughed. "Don't be absurd, he's not my type. Besides, I'm a soul reaper. Most of the time the living can't even see me, I certainly can't date one of them," she said laughingly.

Ichigo chuckled.

"True...Not even when they _can_ see you, like now?"

"_No_," Rukia insisted, smiling, then added vaguely, "Not _him_ anyway."

Ichigo's eyes widened. "But someone?"

She shrugged. "Maybe."

"What about from school, if you had to choose?" Ichigo pressed, turning to face her more.

Rukia stared pensively ahead, turning her book over in her hands.

"I'm not telling you that," she said finally.

"Oh, come on."

"No."

Ichigo fell silent, defeated, then laughed.

"What's so funny?"

He shook his head. "Nothing, you..." He looked over at her. "You have a 'type'?" he asked, smirking.

Rukia stared up at him questioningly. "Is that not how it's phrased now-a-days?" And she began flipping through her language book again.

"No, that's..._phrased_ correctly," Ichigo said laughingly. "It's just hard to imagine you having a type, that's all."

Rukia scoffed, narrowing her eyes at him.

"Really. Well, I guess it's not that simple. No one has just one specific type. It's more just...qualities," she said, shrugging.

"Yeah..."

Rukia looked up at him suddenly, smirking mischievously.

"So tell me, if you're the romance expert around here, what are _your_ qualities you like in a girl?" she said, only half kidding.

Ichigo flushed, grinning nervously. "What? I don't know."

"Oh come on, _expert_. Here, let me start you off: funny, innocent, eccentric, tall, thoughtful, unpredictable, selfless, _beautiful_–"

"Whoa, hey – tell me you're not trying to describe Orihime?" Ichigo cut her off, frowning.

Rukia shrugged, avoiding his gaze. "I just thought she was the one you showed the most interest in, so..."

"Hey, listen, I have _no_ interest in her," Ichigo said firmly. "I mean, until recently, we weren't even friends, really. But I _definitely _wouldn't want to date her. Tatsuki either, so don't ask."

Rukia quickly pasted on a smile and looked up at him. "Sure, keep your secrets, Romeo, I'm not as dumb as I look," she said teasingly.

"Rukia, seriously." Her smile dropped, and she lowered her gaze awkwardly. "Honestly," Ichigo continued, making her look up again, "I don't know what 'type' I'm looking for. I couldn't tell you the girl of my dreams if I wanted to."

Rukia sighed. "I probably couldn't either..."

There was a pause, and Rukia looked up at him imploringly.

"You know, some people believe that dreams are just visions of what your heart really wants," she said, staring up at him.

Ichigo snapped around to look at her, surprised. His face softened as he met her deep amethyst eyes.

"Maybe," he said. They leaned together, and before either knew what was happening, they kissed. They pulled back after a moment and stared at each other, neither knowing what to say. Then looking down, they saw Ichigo's hand covering hers once again, between them on the table.

They stared down at their hands perplexedly, then quickly withdrew them.

"My bad," Ichigo muttered, his face turning deep red.

"No, that was my fault, sorry..." Rukia said, glancing away.

They looked back up at each other questioningly for a moment. Then Ichigo shook his head.

"Forget it," and he leaned into her again, pressing his lips to hers.

* * *

Woo hoo! So, first BLEACH fic. This may seem pretty OOC because of that, considering I've only seen the first four episodes of this show consecutively and scattered episodes on [adultswim otherwise. But whatever. Just a little fluff, because immediately upon seeing the show, I fell in love with two things:  
1 – the opening theme  
and 2 – IchigoxRukia.

R&R appreciated, and hopefully I'll write more for this show. :3


End file.
